


The Color of Love

by morningstone33



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Eventual Smut, F/M, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5222540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningstone33/pseuds/morningstone33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You will be able to see the world in full color once you look into the eyes of your soulmate, but until then, you can only see the world in the eye color of your soulmate.</p><p>Based on a prompt from http://silentpeaches.tumblr.com/post/125291322610/soulmate-au-story-ideas</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aomine

**Author's Note:**

> I know it sounds weird to say things like “Satsuki’s golden hair” because, you know, it’s pink, but keep in mind that Aomine can only see the world in a gold/yellow – for now.  
> *I haven't felt very confident with my writing lately (hence the year-later update, but I'll try to stay on top of the fic this time (I actually have a relatively solid plot worked out) and work on improving (:

It hasn’t ever really bothered Aomine, only seeing one color. In fact, it’s always been strangely comforting. Everywhere he looks, gold is there. Different shades based on what he’s looking at, sure, but still gold. Despite how easily things used to bore him, staring at a partly-cloudy, yellow sky from the rooftop of Tōō Academy as a teenager was always calming. He spent a lot of his high school career there when he was skipping classes or basketball practice. Even as a 24-year-old adult, the color still brings him the same sense of peace.

Aomine has cherished not just the color itself, but also the name of the color as long as he can remember. The way it easily slips through his lips as smooth as water. When babies are born, one of the elements of identification on their birth certificate is the color they’re born seeing. However, it was really only added so that people would have a point of reference when it came to color, and could have a grounding point when they finally looked into the eyes of their soulmate and saw all colors.

Despite the fact that there are upwards of 7 billion people in the world, it’s not uncommon to find your soulmate. In fact, more people find theirs than not. Maybe that’s just one of the few ways in which fate works in favor of humanity.

Aomine has always been a little curious about seeing his precious gold in his special someone’s eyes, but that doesn’t mean his isn’t plenty skeptical. It’s hard to believe that just by looking into the eyes of someone the universe deemed perfect for you before birth, everything will fall into place and you’ll live happily ever after; especially when the only thing you know about them is that their eye color is the only color you’re able to see before meeting. Though Aomine supposes he wouldn’t mind if his soulmate were a woman with big boobs. That would be fine.

Just as Aomine is imagining how great it would be to have the gravure idol Mai-chan’s breasts as his soulmates, another large pair bounces into his line of sight.

“Dai-chan!” Satsuki pouts as she settles under the kotatsu across Aomine, sticking out her bottom lip and narrowing her brows. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

Aomine flicks his eyes up to his best friend’s face, not bothering to detach his chin from his hand. “How could I not hear you, Satsuki, you’re always loudest when nagging,” he drawls. He simply wanted to laze around in his apartment for his first few days back in Japan, but of course Satsuki had to meet up with him as soon as he’d landed.

Satsuki huffs and leans forward into the table, curling up and taking a shallow sip of her homemade Kirshcobbler cocktail. She’s never been good in the kitchen, but behind a bar she works magic. Aomine swears she’s the highest paid bartender in Japan.

“Why do I bother sometimes?” she murmurs, crisscrossing her legs. Setting the guilt card flat out on the table, she whines,  “All I wanted was to spend some nice, quality time with my best friend since he’s finally back from playing basketball in America for three years, but he doesn’t even want to talk to me!”

Aomine sighs and raises one brow. “What,” he deadpans, slowly leaning his head to the left until it falls off his hand and he’s able to rest his cheek on the table.

“I said,” Satsuki starts again, raising her volume with each passing word, “Micchan can see colors now!”

“Why should I care?” Aomine grumbles, letting his eyelids fall shut. If only he had one of Mai-chan’s magazines to help him relax. Or a nap, really. The 12-hour flight from LAX to Tokyo was, needless to say, not very fun. Some kid kicked the back of Aomine’s chair the entire time and whatever the woman next to him ate last was clearly disagreeing with her, if Aomine could make any assumptions from the smell.

“She keeps bragging about it too,” Satsuki complains, slightly bitter. “She’s always talking about her soulmate and how great he is, but I don’t even know his name! Also, she keeps pointing out all of her favorite colors when she sees them to practice memorizing their names, but Acchan and I can’t see them yet so it’s pretty pointless. I mean, I’m happy for her, really, but I’m getting tired of hearing about it _constantly_ \--”

“Satsuki.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so happy you’re back and we can talk like we used to! Phone calls and skypes aren’t the same,” she sighs, smiling as she rests her cheek in her palm. “And I can’t wait to meet my soulmate too, you know? The suspense is killing me! I wonder what the world looks like in full colors.”

Suddenly, a shiver runs through Satsuki’s body. “Dai-chan, can’t you turn up the heat? October’s almost over, you know. Winter is coming,” she frowns, wrapping her arms around herself. Excited that Aomine was finally home, she raced to his house without a coat and wearing a dark, long-sleeve shirt too thin to be warm.

“I moved the table out of this room and bought this kotatsu—earlier than usual, I might add—because you kept begging me to. Put on a jacket, woman, at least that doesn’t cost me money,” he retorts, glancing over through one half-lidded eye, “usually.”

Satsuki snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like you’re not still rolling in basketball money, you old miser,” she teases.

Satsuki sits back up with a playful grin and moves to fish the cherry out of her drink, popping it into her mouth. After a moment, she swallows and sticks out her tongue, presenting Aomine with the tied stem. “Mm?” she prods, raising her eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Aomine can’t help the thin smirk that pulls at his lips. “Do you have to do that every time,” he huffs, unsticking his cheek from the table and getting up from his spot on the floor to walk over to the thermostat. He stares at Satsuki and turns the knob up a single degree Celsius, earning him a glare and the continuation of Satsuki’s vent about “Micchan’s” recent lover.

 “Da-i-chaan!” Satsuki whines, tapping her newly manicured nails—even though she couldn’t see the color, she liked when they sparkled—against the table a few minutes after Aomine returned to his spot across from her. “Did you zone out again?”

“No, I was listening. Just repeat the whole thing so I know I got it all,” Aomine nods seriously, suppressing a smirk when Satsuki throws her arms up in frustration.

“Seriously, why do I bother?!” she cries, burying her face in her hands. No more than an instant later, her head shoots up and her bright eyes are bearing into Aomine. He flinches slightly, not looking forward to whatever made her excitement level skyrocket.

“Oh, Dai-chan!” she squeals, eyes shining. “I almost forgot to ask- Did you hear about the special contact lenses that are being sold now?”

“The what?”

“Contac- I’m not going to keep repeating myself,” she purses her lips and squints, excitement momentarily bottled. “Are you actually going to listen or should I just come back tomorrow? I know you had a long flight, but I thought you’d want to hang out.” She crosses her arms.

“Fine, sorry,” Aomine waves a hand before leaning on his elbows over the table toward her. “What ‘hip new product’ has caught your eye this time, Satsuki?”

Her lips quirk back into a grin as she explains, “I saw on TV yesterday that some research company just successfully developed and started selling these special contact lenses that can change your eye color.”

Aomine crosses his arms in an attempt to disguise his peaked curiosity, but Satsuki notices the way his brows crease and his head tips forward ever so slightly.

“They’re really, really expensive, but get this, the color of the contact lens actually changes the color your soulmate sees!” Satsuki continues, leaning forward on her elbows as well. “Not the color of your own sight, of course, since it’s like a colored filter for your partner’s vision,” she adds.

Aomine’s eyebrows narrow further. “And people are buying these?”

Tilting her head and narrowing her own brows, Satsuki questions, “What, you think it’s a bad idea? It sounds really cool. Now your soulmate can see other colors even if you haven’t found them yet.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad idea,” he starts, lying back on the floor, “I just don’t give a rat’s ass about what fad the general public is into these days.” Resting his arms behind his head, Aomine closes his eyes. “Seems stupid, that’s all.”

Slipping out from under the kotatsu and crawling over to where Aomine lays on the hardwood, Satsuki kneels in front of her childhood friend. She peers down at him and gives him a couple light jabs in the side. “You wouldn’t want to try them on, Dai-chan?” she pesters, adding a few more jabs. “You wouldn’t want to let your fated love see more than just one color? It gets boring only seeing one forever, especially since even things like sunglasses don’t change what your soulmate sees. This is amazing!” Her confused stare goes unnoticed by Aomine, who looks as though he’s about to fall asleep.

“Sure, it’s a ‘breakthrough for modern-day science,’ but I don’t see why it’s necessary,” he yawns. “People just don’t appreciate what they have. I like my color.”

Feeling harder prods in his side, Aomine scowls and swats at the fingers poking his midsection. “Hey-”

“Aww, Dai-chan!” Satsuki squeaks, “You’re such a hopeless romantic!” She beams at him so brightly from her spot on the floor that her eyes squeeze shut, and she doesn’t even bother trying to suppress the soft giggle that emerges.

Running a hand through his short, dark locks, Aomine scoffs and rolls his eyes, looking back up at Satsuki. “I’m not a romantic,” he mumbles, “Just realistic.”

The pair sits in a comfortable silence for a while. The air settles around them as Aomine lightly dozes and Satsuki watches him, a fond smile gracing her lips. Too soon for Aomine, Satsuki stands and breaks the silence.

“Well, I should probably get going since it’s getting late,” Satsuki stretches her arms out in front of her and yawns. “And I’m sure you want to get some rest after your long trip, mm?”

Aomine nods and pushes himself up off the floor. Standing to his full height, he saunters over to the coat closet by the front door and grabs himself a dark hoodie, tossing another at Satsuki.

“Oh, thanks,” she smiles. She shrugs it on and snuggles into it. “It’s so warm.”

Slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys, Aomine closes the closet door and nods to the front.

“Ready?” He opens the front door for Satsuki.

“Aw, Dai-chan, so sweet,” Satsuki teases, pinching one of Aomine’s cheeks.

“Age before beauty,” he mutters, earning him a smack on the side of the head.

Stepping out into the crisp autumn air, Satsuki shivers. She digs her hands deeper into the pockets of Aomine’s jacket to savor any warmth she can find. “Too cold!”

Aomine makes a “tsk” sound from behind and wraps a scarf around her neck.

“Idiot. You’re the one who’s always complaining when it’s cold, you should dress warmer,” he grumbles.

Shutting and locking the door behind them, Aomine takes his place beside Satsuki and they begin toward the train station. Not more than a minute into their ten-minute walk, however, Satsuki’s voice pops out of the scarf.

“Dai-chan?” she asks, her voice quiet. Aomine almost misses the quake in it. He turns his head to look at her and pauses mid-step when he notices that she’d already stopped walking a few feet ago. His gaze settles on her weather-tinted cheeks since her mouth is hidden behind dark cloth.

“What if we never find them?” Satsuki whispers, another shiver running down her spine. “The people we were born to be with. Will we be stuck seeing the same color our whole lives?”

She sniffles, burying her face deeper into the scarf, eyes staring holes in the sidewalk. The light from the closest streetlamp doesn’t fully reach her, but casts shadows over her from Aomine, who’s standing closer to it.

“And that little nagging feeling in my chest,” Satsuki continues, “I know you feel it too. Like something’s missing, but you can’t quite place what it is. Like you’ve forgotten something but there’s nothing you could have forgotten because you’ve never known it in the first place.”

“Satsuki-”

“Will we always feel incomplete?” she whispers, her eyelids rising so her pained gaze meets his. Her eyes are devoid of their usual brightness. Her cheeks are tinted from the chill, but the rest of her face is pale. Satsuki sniffles, though from the cold or something else, Aomine isn’t sure. In any other scenario, she’d look beautiful standing in the midst of fall foliage. The hollowness of her eyes instead makes it frightening.

Despite the heaviness that’s taken root in his stroll, Aomine moves toward his best friend. Away from the harsh glare of the streetlight, he steps into the shadows and rests his hand on Satsuki’s head. He smooths her hair down gently, pulling her head into his chest.

Aomine holds her as the city of Tokyo rushes on. The cars, the people, the time-- none of it waits for them. Even at night, the city is crowded, and no one takes any notice of the two standing on the side of the walkway.

A few minutes tick by before Satsuki lays a soft hand on Aomine’s chest, pushing back enough to gaze up at him and smiles fondly. She sees the twinge of worry that rests in his expression and places her hand on his cheek for a moment. They don’t say anything, but instead turn and resume their walk to the station. Satsuki’s arm curls around Aomine’s, though he sticks his hands in his pockets.

Before Aomine realizes, they’re at the subway entrance. His gaze focuses back on Satsuki, who pauses by the stairs for a moment before turning to face him.

“Sorry, Dai-chan,” she breathes, a wispy chuckle falling from her lips. “I didn’t mean to end our night on a serious note.”

“Yeah, well,” he rubs the back of his neck and tilts his gaze to the side. “You can talk to me about that stuff whenever.” He coughs in an attempt to dislodge the awkwardness from his throat, not used to ‘heart-to-hearts’ despite how long he’s known her.

“We’re in the same boat here, Satsuki,” he murmurs.

Satsuki blinks and stares at him for a moment, noticing the tinge of color blossoming in Aomine’s cheeks, before her lips break out in another smile.

“Thanks, Dai-chan.” She takes a step toward the long stairwell and waves, “See you later!”

And with that, she pivots back around, making her descent toward the trains. Aomine waits outside the entrance, watching her leave until the top of her bright golden hair is no longer visible.

***

By the time Aomine reaches his apartment, he swears the temperature’s dropped at least 6 degrees outside.

 _Wouldn’t be surprised if I have icicles hanging off me_ , he thinks, trying to stomp the cold from his feet. Slipping out of his shoes and coat, he meanders out of his entryway. His apartment is modest in size and décor, especially for a pro basketball player, but he likes the quaintness of it all. It’s comfortable, familiar.

Aomine stands in the entrance for a moment, deciding if he’s hungry enough to bother cooking anything. The kitchen is straight ahead… but the couch is only a few steps to the left. Checking his watch, he figures he might as well eat before it gets too late.

He pads into the kitchen and fixes two quick peanut butter sandwiches, leaning against the counter to eat them. Afterward, he sips on a cup of banana milk and returns to the living room. Aomine grabs the TV remote and turns it on, flipping through the channels for a mindless show to watch before bed. In the midst of switching shows, he sees a giant eye on the screen. It reminds him of the contact lenses Satsuki was ranting about earlier, so he pauses and lets it play while returning to the kitchen to clean the cocktail glass Satsuki left on the kotatsu table.

“Wow, those are exciting, aren’t they?” the host exclaims, cooing over the lenses presented before him.

“These state-of-the-art lenses really are incredible. They can actually change the color your soulmate sees before you meet them,” the suited guest explains, presenting more information on a screen behind her. “If you look here-”

The shock from noise to silence leaves a quiet buzzing in Aomine’s ear. He sticks his pinky in it and scowls, dropping the remote on the side table by the couch.

“Stupid fad,” he mutters. He strolls right out of the living room and passes the kitchen on his left, walking down the short hallway to the bedroom. Brushing his teeth quicker than dentist recommended, Aomine strips down to his boxers, flips off the lights, and flops onto his bed. Making sure his alarm is set for 6:00 am, he pulls the dark comforter over his waist.

Aomine stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking about the week ahead. Seeing as he’s taking the season off from basketball, there’s not much he has planned. He’s supposed to be resting his left leg, but it’s not like the injury was that bad. If it were, his coaches wouldn’t have allowed him to leave their sight.

He rolls over onto his stomach, pressing his ear into his pillow, and lets his lids flutter shut. He can’t help but think about the color-changing contacts Satsuki was so excited over. He doesn’t really understand why people need so many useless innovations.

Truth be told, Aomine enjoys his current life too much to care about what other colors might exist. He loves playing professional basketball, savors the patches of free time he finds here and there to meet up with old friends, and treasures his comforting yellow. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.


	2. Kise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kise works, reminisces, and shops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who read ch. 1 before 12/27/16, you might wanna re-read it before starting ch. 2 because I changed some of it.
> 
> Un-beta'd, please bear with me.

“Ryouta’s eyes look like pee, Ryouta’s eyes look like pee!” the shrill chanting echoes from across the dinner table. “Mom, Reina, look at Ryouta’s eyes!”

6-year-old Kise’s eyes widen before his arms fling in front of his face protectively. Tears immediately begin to well up and drip down his cheeks. He squeezes his lids shut and rubs at his face with the back of his wrist, but his tears slip relentlessly.

“No they don’t!” he shouts back from behind his forearms, trying to stifle his sniffling.

“Reiko, that’s enough!” their mother scolds, slamming her eating utensils on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you not to tease your brother?”

“Look, Mom, look!” Reiko barks out another laugh and points at Kise, bouncing in her chair. “Ew, Ryouta, why do they look like that?”

“Reiko, upstairs!” their mother shouts and squeezes the bridge of her nose with an irritated groan. “Now!”

Seemingly unperturbed by her mother’s increasing anger, Reiko’s dark blue curls bounce around her face as she bounds from her chair to the stairs, all the while chanting, “Ryouta has pee eyes!”

“I don’t,” Kise wails. Despite his efforts, he can’t seem to stop his tears. “Th-they’re not- I don’t…” he trails off, interrupted by a hiccup.

“Come now, Ryouta,” his mother soothes, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “It’s okay, calm down. I’m going to go talk to your sister, so just finish your dinner, alright?”

“Mom,” he whines, sniffling furiously. No longer wiping away his tears, he slumps back in his chair with his arms over his eyes while his mother storms upstairs.

Reina, who had been mostly ignoring the ever redundant Reiko-teases-Ryouta’s-eyes scene, taps Kise on his upper arm from beside him.

“Ryouta,” she sings sweetly, “can I see your eyes?”

Kise shakes his head vigorously, slumping down as far as he can.

 “Please?” Reina tries again, tapping his arm softly a few more times for good measure. “I like your eyes.”

At that, one eye pops out of the crook of Kise’s arm accompanied by a sniffle.

“You do?” he asks, dropping his arm farther. His voice cracks a little on the end, but Reina just smiles. Contrary to her twin sister’s short, dark curls, Reina’s lighter blue hair dances around her upper arms in straight wisps.

“Of course,” she affirms, patting the top of his head. “They look like pretty sunflowers!”

“Sunflowers…” he repeats, slowly resting his arms back in his lap. Eyes downcast, he twiddles his thumbs together. Even though he knows what sunflowers look like, the only color he sees when he looks at them is a deep blue.

Kise mumbles, “I can’t see that color like you and Reiko-neesan.”

Reina pauses and taps on her bottom lip thoughtfully. She scoots her chair away from the table a bit and pats her lap gently, a knowing smile gracing her face. Looking up at the chair’s noise, Kise sees the pat and his cheeks flush lightly. He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout, but slides off his chair and climbs onto her lap regardless. He settles in sideways, hugging her around the neck. Despite his shy demeanor, he loves when Reina holds him lovingly like this.

She locks her hands around his waist to keep him from slipping off and whispers, “I’m sure you’ll be able to see all the colors someday too. You just have to find your special person. You know, finding your soulmate at 12-years-old is really young. Reiko and I are lucky.”

With a quiet chuckle, Reina adds, “And to think, our soulmates are twins too. The universe is very funny that way.”

Kise rests his head against Reina’s chest with a final sniffle and wonders, “Nee-san, what if my special person hates my color like Reiko-neesan does?”

“Oh, Ryouta,” Reina sighs, stroking Kise’s hair gently, “I’m sure they love it. It’s beautiful, just like you.” She adds two gentle taps on his nose and Kise giggles, trying to hide his face in her shirt.

She laughs with him, tickling his neck and sides as he squirms on her lap, but her voice starts to sound distant and fuzzy.

“Love you, Ryouta,” she says, sounding as if she’s speaking through water.

Her voice echoes and gradually becomes a little clearer.

“Ryouta… Ryouta!”

“Ryouta!” Reina’s voice cuts through his consciousness.

“Huh, what,” he mumbles, eyes still closed. “Love you too, Nee-san…”

“What? Ryouta, what the hell are you talking about? Never mind that, I can’t believe you’re still in bed!” she shouts. Kise feels something soft drop onto his face. “Hurry up and shower, you’re going to be late!”

Kise groans and snakes a hand under the unidentified furry object that was tossed at him in order to rub the sleep out of his eyes. _That dream again_ , he muses. Every so often, some of Kise’s less than pleasant childhood memories sneak their way into his subconscious. Looking on the bright side, as Kise tries to do whenever these dream-memories flood his mind, at least that one included Reina. She always makes things better.

Yawning and looking around, he spots his older sister and manager tapping incessantly on her phone. Reina’s long, light hair is pulled into a tight ponytail that falls down her neck. Her unusually nice suit makes Kise pause, and his eyes drift to the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 7:24 am. Isn’t he supposed to be leaving his apartment for work by 7:30…?

“Shit!” he shouts, throwing the covers off. He grabs the towel his sister threw at his face and rushes into the bathroom. The combination of being born seeing a naturally dark navy blue and a restless night’s sleep produces the inevitable toe stubbing that Kise experiences against the edge of the glass shower door. He bites back another curse, groaning in its place, and shakes his foot in the air a little before turning on the water and hopping—literally—into his large shower.

Sometimes, when Kise wakes early enough, he spends his morning on the marble blue bench built into his pristine tile shower. He likes the simply elegant feel of it as well as the fact that he can relax in the shower steam first thing in the morning. Ideally, he would wake up every morning with time saved for this and make it a morning ritual. Ideally.

This is not one of those mornings.

Kise hurriedly washes himself, possibly missing a crevice or two as he goes—really though, who would notice—and jumps out of shower in record time. Simultaneously drying himself off and brushing his teeth, he pushes open the bathroom door a crack and peers out at his sister. She’s on the phone and, from the looks of her furrowed brows and pacing feet, definitely not happy.

 _Crap, crap, crap, crap,_ he chants, finishing his personal hygiene routine as quickly as humanly possible, if not quicker. He sprints out of the bathroom and throws on the first articles of clothing he pulls out of his dresser drawers. It doesn’t really matter what he wear to the shoot, since he’ll be changing there anyway, but he does hope that he doesn’t look ridiculous on the street.

“Reina, I’m done,” he wheezes, currently hopping on one foot as he pulls on his last sock. “Sorry I wasn’t ready on time.”

“Save it for the car,” she says curtly. Dropping her phone into her small handbag, Reina marches straight out of the apartment.

“Not good,” Kise mutters. He grabs his jacket (pockets already loaded with his phone, wallet, and keys—courtesy of Reina) and races after her.

***

By the time Reina drives Kise up to the office building where his current project is being held, they’re late. Not as late as Kise thought they would be (thanks to the speed demon that possess Reina when she gets behind the wheel), but late nonetheless. In order to start the shoot as soon as possible, Kise hurries to the dressing room, shutting his phone off on the way, while Reina is stuck apologizing to the crew.

All smiles, Kise pushes open the door with a lively, “Hello everyone! Please take care of me again today!”

However, before he can even get both feet through the door, a thin metal hanger smacks him across the head.

“Ow!” he cries, dramatically grabbing the top of his head with both hands even though it doesn’t hurt.

“You’re late! How long do you think we’ve been waiting?” Kasamatsu’s rough voice barks from Kise’s left. “Hurry up and let Kazunari fix your face so I can dress you,” he demands before sulking over to his spot by the rack of clothes. He falls into the armchair in the corner of the room to wait, drumming his fingers on his crossed arm. Kasamatsu tosses a glare in Kise’s direction, but then shuts his eyes, letting his face tip forward.

“Don’t take long, Kazunari.”

“So mean,” Kise huffs, sliding into the chair facing the makeup mirror.

“Morning, Kise!” chirps the makeup artist, Takao.

“Heya, Takaocchi!” Kise beams. “Sorry I’m late—rough morning.”

Takao laughs and playfully tugs the back of Kise’s hair.

“I can tell by the size of the bags under your eyes,” he teases. Kise whimpers in response and swats Takao’s hand away. Having already set out his makeup kits on the table, Takao rubs his hands together in anticipation. There’s a gleam in his eye that always appears when he starts a new project, especially when it involves Kise.

Plucking a brush off the table, Takao grins and murmurs, “Here we go.”

There is a moment of silence as he ponders over where he wants to start, but, Takao being Takao, that silence doesn’t last long. Not that Kise minds. He’s been friends with Takao since their first day on the same team. They became best friends instantly, and Kise promptly adorned Takao’s name with his famous suffix: “-cchi.”

“Shin-chan and I are thinking of taking a trip soon,” Takao announces as he works. “He’s finally getting some time off from the hospital, so we’ve decided to make the most of it! Oh, speaking of medical stuff—sort of—have you heard about those new color-changing contacts?”

“Color-changing contacts?” Kise questions, furrowing his brows together in thought. “Mm, I don’t think so…”

“Really?” Takao’s eyebrows rise slightly as he continues, “Where have you been? It’s the only thing people have been talking about for the past few days!”

Kise half-laughs, half-cringes at Takao’s disbelief.

“I guess I’ve just been a little out of the loop lately,” he replies. “So, fill me in, Takaocchi!”

“Right, well,” Takao starts, “I’m not sure what they’re officially called, but apparently wearing these contacts changes the color your soulmate can see.”

Kise’s ears perk up at Takao’s last words and his eyes widen in accompaniment.

“They change the color your soulmate sees?” Kise repeats to make sure he heard right. That couldn’t be possible. Things like sunglasses and normal colored contacts don’t change the color your soulmate sees, so how could these?

“Yeah, pretty cool, right? Whatever the color the lens is, that’s the color your mate will see through. Shin-chan told me about them first. Someone from his hospital worked on the development team,” Takao nods.

“They seem interesting, but it’s not like you need them,” he adds. “Your eyes are so pretty already, Kise.”

Takao gives Kise a boyishly bright grin, and Kise can’t help but smile back.

“Well, since you can see their color, I guess I have to believe you,” Kise winks at Takao. “Midorimacchi is so lucky,” he sighs, reaching up and poking Takao gingerly in the cheek. “I wish I were Takaocchi’s soulmate.”

“Maybe in another life, Ryou-chan,” Takao’s voice takes on a ‘cutesy’ tone when he says Kise name and he adds in a wink of his own without missing a beat.

Kise gasps playfully, throwing one hand over his heart and the other over his forehead. “Ah, Takaocchi, don’t do that to me! I might fall for you for real!”

Takao laughs again and sets down his makeup tools, stepping back from Kise and spinning the chair toward Kasamatsu with his foot.

“Off to Senpai now, my dear back-up soulmate,” Takao ushers Kise off the chair with a light push on his shoulders.

“’Back-up soulmate!?” Kise cries as he gets up and steps over toward a sleeping Kasamatsu, calling over his shoulder, “How harsh! I thought we were friends!”

Takao snickers.

Suddenly, a demanding knock sounds from the door, effectively startling Kasamatsu out of his slumber.

“Ryouta, are you ready?” Reina’s voice calls through the door.

“Ah, almost!” Kise calls back. Kasamatsu, cheeks flushed, jumps out of his chair and rushes to take the designated clothes off the hangers.

“Here,” he shoves a pair of dark skinny jeans at Kise before grabbing two other hangers. Kise slips out of his baggy jeans in favor of the new pair and hurriedly throws off his shirt. He takes a pale colored shirt with lighter edges from Kasamatsu and pulls it over his head. Finishing with a loose sweater, he lets Kasamatsu slide a stack of bracelets onto his left wrist before stepping into a pair of shoes set by the clothes rack.

Kise does a quick spin on his toes and grins at Kasamatsu.

“How do I look, Senpai?” he offers Kasamatsu one of his money-making smiles, only to be rewarded with a rough hand chop on the head.

“Get out of here,” Kasamatsu grimaces, a light flush still gracing his cheeks. “You’re late enough as it is.”

He finalizes the outfit by smoothing out the shirt, patting down the sides of the pants, and clipping a necklace around Kise’s neck.

Kise waves jovially to Takao and Kasamatsu, then bounds out the door and follows Reina to the shoot.

***

Despite Kise’s initial lateness, the shoot goes great. He changes into three different outfits, each one requiring its own makeup style. It’s tedious, but worth it. By the end of the session, Kise can tell that the photographer is impressed with him, if not by the shower of compliments then by the fact that the photographer immediately went to Reina after the final photos were taken to talk about scheduling Kise for another shoot in the near future. Not to mention, the pictures that Kise was able to preview looked pretty good.

Kise slips away from the spotlight once the camera stops flashing and walks back to his dressing room. Takao and Kasamatsu have already left, each having other responsibilities to attend to, so Kise is left to relax alone. He sinks into one of the armchairs and sighs, wiping a bead of sweat from the side of his face.

A faint knock sounds at the door, to which Kise responds with a tired, “Yes?”

The door opens slowly and Reina peeks her head in, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you decent?” she asks. “Is it safe to look?”

“I don’t just sit around naked, Nee-san,” Kise rolls his eyes, but quirks the edges of his lips upward. “I haven’t changed back into my clothes yet, though.”

Reina opens her eyes, still only sticking her head into the room, and responds, “Well, sit in here as long as you want, but I have a meeting to get to, so I can’t drive you back. Good work today, Ryouta. You looked great.”

Flashing a smile and a thumbs up, Reina steps back out of the room and Kise watches the weight of the door pull itself closed.

Kise lets out a yawn and stretches his arms out in front of him. Since he has a meeting of his own to attend in a few hours, he decides to just head home and relax for the time being. Changing out of the designer clothes and back into his casual ones, Kise strides out of the room, saying plenty of ‘goodbye’s and ‘thank you’s on his way out of the building. He flips up his hood (partly due to the autumn chill and partly to hide his face from any who might recognize him), turns on his phone, and starts toward home.

Kise doesn’t mind walking home, seeing as it only takes 25-minutes and he is a healthy young male with a relatively good sense of direction; however, he does like riding back with Reina after his shoots. Sometimes they talk about whatever’s on their minds, sometimes they’ll just listen to the radio and enjoy each other’s company.

Soon after Kise started modeling seriously in high school, Reina graduated from university with a business management degree and asked him if he would mind having her as a manager. Up until that point, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do after she finished school, but she’d always been good in her business and marketing courses.

Needless to say, Kise was overjoyed and they partnered up instantly. The agency Kise had recently joined readily accepted Reina as well. Reina’s been an outstanding manager since then and he couldn’t be more proud. She’s helped him get a number of jobs and made him stand out even more at corporate meetings.

As Kise walks over scattered autumn leaves, his thoughts are interrupted by his phone’s text ringtone. Pulling it from his jacket pocket, his eyes gravitate toward the sender of the message.

“New Messages: Haizaki Shougo (6)”

As if by reflex, Kise’s brows narrow and he casts his eyes to the side with a sigh. Glancing back down at his phone, he momentarily debates as to whether or not he should open them.

 _It’s not like I can see him right now_ , he rationalizes to himself. _I’ll just respond later and tell him I was busy._

Deleting the notifications and slipping his phone back into his pocket, Kise continues toward his apartment. He looks over at the shops he’s passing, since you can’t walk a block in the city without passing a myriad of different ones, and an ad catches his eye.

The ad itself is simply a darkly-colored eye. It’s the phrase on it that catches Kise’s attention: “New! Colored contacts! Change how your soulmate sees the world!” Kise’s earlier conversation with Takao pops back into his head and he finds himself drifting toward the store.

Stepping inside, the shop looks more like an optometrist‘s office than a department store. The walls are lined with eyeglasses and sunglasses, but there is a small section toward the back with a copy of the ad that reeled Kise in. He heads over to where the ad is placed, a nervous feeling beginning to bubble in his stomach.

The ad is sitting upon a glass counter filled with contact lenses of all different shades. As he bends down to get a better look, Kise’s eyes widen slightly in awe, which does not go unnoticed by the saleswoman standing behind the short shelves. She smiles at Kise, her short dark hair smothered in so much product that it doesn’t move even when she nods at him energetically and taps on the glass where he’s looking.

“Ah yes, these are the famous new contact lenses everyone is talking about. They truly do change the color your soulmate sees. I’d try them myself, but I’ve already found mine!” she giggles, pressing a hand to her cheek bashfully.

Kise feels himself entranced by the lenses. There are rows and rows with different labels: forest green, cherry red, and a bunch of colors Kise’s never heard of before. Even though he can’t see the different colors, he’s sure they’re all beautiful.

Despite being a model, Kise’s always wished he could change the color of his eyes. He knows it’s silly, since he’s never even seen the color for himself and he has plenty of fans who would say his eye color is gorgeous, but he can’t help feeling self-conscious about them.

It doesn’t help that he never really got over the relentless teasing he suffered throughout his childhood from his older sister, Reiko. Reina had always supported him and cheered him up when he was sad, but the negative comments always seemed to outweigh the positive.

Kise stands back up to his full height with a smile and asks, “What colors would you recommend?”

“Well,” she takes a deep breath and Kise can tell her recommendation will be a long one, “My best friend bought her first pair yesterday and went with a rose pink. You know the phrase ‘looking through rose-colored glasses?’ It’s an expression used when you fall in love that means you look at your partner with a positive outlook, almost as if they’re perfect. Everything seems perfect, really. With that person by your side, nothing can get you down!”

The sales lady stops herself, almost forcefully, and clears her throat, a light hue dusting her cheeks.

“Anyway,” she continues, “if I had to try to describe the color, the first thing that comes to mind is… soft. Yes, soft. It’s a gentle, safe color. If that makes sense.”

Kise nods. He likes the idea of his partner seeing their world through those soft, rose-colored glasses too. Maybe it will help them feel positive or cheer them up when they’re down. Also, it seems super romantic.

“Sounds nice,” Kise smiles down at the lenses.

_Any of those would be better than the color they’re seeing now, I’m sure._

“Oh, but that rose color,” Kise pauses, “does it look anything like the color of my eyes?”

Kise looks up at the woman and their gazes lock. He feels a momentary discomfort at having someone who can see colors examine his eyes, but then she shakes her head.

“Yours are a bright yellow,” she replies. “A lovely color, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Offering only a polite smile, Kise says nothing.

He glances back down at the lenses once more before asking, “Do you have a color called navy blue?”

“We sure do!” she confirms, pointing down at one of the lenses in the middle of the display. “Any special reason for that request?”

There are a lot of reasons for that request, but the one that matters most for Kise is the fact that he wants his soulmate to be able to enjoy the color he’s lived his entire life seeing. It sounds cheesy, but Kise’s hopeless romantic side doesn’t care.

He loves his dark blue, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kise smiles fondly down at the lenses she pointed out and simply says, “It’s the only color I can see.”

The woman hums knowingly and touches her cheek again.

“That’s such a sweet sentiment!” she beams. “And before you ask, it’s a very different color from your eyes.”

Offering an appreciative nod and a half-smile, Kise pulls his wallet from his jacket pocket.

“In that case, I’d like to get one pair of the rose and one navy blue,” he requests.

The saleswoman reaches down to open the glass display case and pulls out two small boxes. She rings them up and Kise hands her his credit card. Swiftly and efficiently, she completes the transaction, handing him back his card and newly bagged purchases. Smiling once more, Kise thanks the woman for her help and heads out of the store.

As he’s strolling back to his apartment, his phone dings again. Against his better judgement, he takes it out of his pocket and checks the notification.

“New Messages: Haizaki Shougo (2)”

Kise tips his head back and sighs. He forgot about the six he received (and hadn’t read) earlier until he opens the conversation and sees seven messages waiting for responses.

 **Haizaki Shougo:** ryouta come over today

                           i want to see you

                           ryouta

                           youre not ignoring me are you

                           dont be like this

                           what the hell Ryouta

 **Haizaki Shougo:** your phone is always in your hand except when i want to talk to you

                           ill just let myself in

 _Seriously?_ Kise thinks, exasperated. _I swear, he just does whatever he wants._

Careful to watch where he’s walking, Kise types out a quick response.

 **Kise Ryouta:** i thought you were busy with those two girls you picked up the other day (；￣Д￣）

 **Kise Ryouta:** besides, you cant come over right now, i have a meeting to prepare for

Freshly annoyed, Kise shakes his head and shoves his phone back into his jacket pocket.

_Knew I shouldn’t have looked._

***

With only a few hours until his meeting regarding an upcoming photoshoot, Kise spends his time relaxing and watching professional basketball on the television. Time passes quickly, and by the time Kise has to leave, he’s relieved that Shougo hadn’t come over. He still feels a little uneasy about that guy having a key to his apartment, but he knows he’d piss Shougo off if he tried to ask for it back. Besides, he supposes there are some benefits to their arrangement.

They wouldn’t be called friends-with-benefits otherwise.

If anyone knew Kise was in a sort-of relationship with Shougo, he’d certainly be shamed for it. Anyone would. When the universe creates someone specifically for you, why would you go against nature and try to have a relationship with someone else who isn’t meant for you? It just doesn’t happen. Well, publicly it doesn’t.

By the time Kise arrives at the building where the meeting is being held, he’s 15 minutes early, as usual. That morning was a fluke.

As it turns out, the section heads are doing business overseas, so the lower chiefs set up a video call to let the heads still take part. There are a few technical difficulties during the meeting, one being that the call is dropped—twice. Despite this, Kise’s charms and persuasive skills influence him getting a better deal than originally proposed. Reina would be proud. The meeting adjourns with Kise agreeing to do a few photo sessions with the new label, so everyone wins.

Kise calls a taxi to take him home, since the walk isn’t something he wants to endure after such a long day. The driver allows him to stop by a casual restaurant on the way where he picks up a to-go dinner.

Finally back in his apartment, Kise flops down onto his couch and uncaps his cup of onion gratin soup. Despite its shabby outer appearance, the modest restaurant Kise goes to for his soup serves the best in town. It’s not long before the cup is empty and Kise is sighing contentedly.

Sinking into the cushions, Kise uses the remote to bring the television to life. On any other day, he’d be getting ready for bed at this time. Luckily, tomorrow is one of his treasured days off. Even though he does value his days off, Kise truly loves modeling.

It’s his passion.

In middle school, Kise thought he’d grow up to play professional basketball. Surrounded by incredible players at Teiko Junior High, he didn’t think anything could be better. He worked hard, played harder, and loved everything about the game.

It wasn’t until Kise went to high school that he stopped playing. During his last year of middle school, his team started falling apart and he started losing his motivation. Reina, noticing his slump, tried to help him find another hobby. At first, nothing really interested him. That is, until she took him to a modeling shoot held by a friend of hers.

As soon as he stepped into the room with the cameras flashing and smiles gleaming, something fell into place inside him. He hadn’t even tried it yet, but he knew that he wanted to. There wasn’t any one thing about witnessing that photoshoot that made him so fascinated, but rather the combination of everything captured his heart.

Kise’s first photoshoot was undoubtedly a success. His pictures gained popularity quickly and intensely. Shortly after entering high school, he joined the agency where he currently works and started modeling professionally with Reina at his side.

Being so busy starting his career, he decided against joining the basketball team at his high school. He missed playing, of course, but he didn’t regret his decision. He couldn’t. He loved modeling too much.

A yawn bubbles up in Kise’s chest, drawing him out of his reminiscing. He sets it free and rubs his eyes, feeling the effect of his day coming on. He picks himself off the couch and tosses out the empty soup container before heading to his bedroom, grabbing his purchase from earlier on the way.

Yawning again, Kise takes the packs of contacts out of the bag as he walks into his bedroom and then the connected bathroom. He sets the cases down on the marble counter in front of the mirror and smiles gently at them.

***

Kise starts the day annoying early. For reasons unknown, he wakes before 8 am and, despite many desperate attempts, can’t get back to sleep. He tosses and turns for 20 solid minutes before giving up with an irritated huff.

He throws the covers off and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes.

“Why,” Kise deadpans to no one in particular. Running a slender hand through his hair and ruffling it up a bit, he sighs and pushes himself off the bed. He ambles into his bathroom and efficiently takes care of his morning routine: shower, teeth, hair—the whole shebang.

As he finishes, he spots the contact cases he’d left on the counter the night before. His lips slowly curve into a grin as he opens the little box labeled “Navy Blue” and proceeds to place them in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it wasn't terribly obvious that I know nothing about makeup, but I know nothing about makeup.
> 
> The outfit I used for Kise's shoot was taken from a piece of official art I found here: http://coffeetasty.tumblr.com/post/93761248964/solo-mini-album-covers
> 
> I'm really gonna try for weekly or every-other-weekly updates, but classes start up again next week so we'll see how my motivation fares.  
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed chapter one! Always open to constructive criticism in the comments or through my tumblr, one-eyed-kaneki-kun.tumblr.com .


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